


Worms

by CoffeeCats



Series: Hollow Destiny AU [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games), Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: (for destiny moreso than hk i suppose), Canon-Typical Violence, second person voice bc for some reason i like writing hive like that, warning for some potential body horror near the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 23:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18398960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeCats/pseuds/CoffeeCats
Summary: A little exploration of "What if the Pale King was a Hive worm?"





	Worms

Light rends the air and your knight's death tears free, echoing through you and setting off your own motions. By the time its carcass hits the dirt you're already gone; leapt free from the now-useless body with no second thoughts, save for a flicker of remorse for the lack of sustenance you now face. It's not impossible to survive without a tithe, but feeding from those beneath you made it easy to grow fat and happy. 

The Lightbearer is swarmed by those same, once-subservient, thrall and acolytes. They're all as doomed as your host had been, but they provide distraction enough for you to burrow into the dirt and out of sight.  

Your (frustratingly slow) travels take you far and deep across this wretched world. You burrow and dig and hunt, for a time, for a brood nest in which to take a new host. Tastes of Light and Dark tingle at the far edges of your senses, refusing to grow any closer no matter how far you roam.  

As your body wanders, so does your mind. 

Something tangential to doubt creeps into your thoughts the first time you devour a discarded scrap of Light buried deep in some mindless native creature. Instinct says to tithe, but reason asks "To who? To what end?" The Mother of your old host's brood is long dead, just like the Mothers above her and the King above them. The lineage you once served, once so strong in power and Logic, is now nothing but ashes and decay. 

You keep your power, you hunt for more small scraps.  

You wonder if this is what the first Worms felt. 

Time passes, irrelevantly as always. How much matters less than your thoughts and decisions and the new scent of Light. 

This spark is heavier than the unintended vectors you've been devouring as you move. You linger some distance away, tasting the subatomic static, gathering information. The Light knows you're here, though it's not a Lightbearer as you know them; not two halves of a whole, but one creature, very small. Sentience where it shouldn't be. Something accidentally Light-touched, raising up fellow mindless creatures in worship of the Sky. 

It would be easy enough to devour it and move on, but something gives you pause. You expand your senses out and down, away from the Light, to the creatures scuttling through tunnels and dirt and roots. 

You wonder now if this is what the first Worms felt. 

To chase and hunt Light is a hard way to live. To feed from the offerings of those beneath you is much easier. 

You turn, burrow down and aside. The Light-touched creature knows where you are, and you make sure it hears as you sing the Deep into these mindless creatures. It won't be the only one to bring sentience into these depths. It will take time, you know this. To sing life into these simple minds, to establish yourself as their king and ruler and god. 

Is it a blasphemy to entertain the thought of yourself as equal to Eir? Perhaps, you think, with a touch of humor.  

As minds bleed into these mindless creatures, you construct a host for yourself. A puppet to allow closer manipulation of these tiny beasts. You observe their movements and consider their shapes. You take a few for parts for your new construction. Half-sentient minds ring loud with confusion and fear as instincts attempt to resist their dismemberment. You assure them they are serving their new god in the truest manner.  

 _A true servant gives all for their King_ , you say as you take their limbs and chitin to be your own. 

 _Let me relieve you of your burden_ , you say as you devour their mind and the echoes of life that live within. 

Your host will be bright and pale in mockery of the Light and the Sky, you will wreath your subjects in Darkness and song, and when the time is right you will tear down that neighboring beacon and its worshippers. 

 


End file.
